After our shake-down cruise and commissioning at New Orleans
we were ready for orders to take us to a war zone but first we had some
serious modifications made at the Naval Shipyard. We had four more davits
installed to bring our LCVPs up to a total of six. The three inch gun which
was mounted in a gun tub on our stern was removed and a twin 40mm Bofors
installed in it's place. We had engaged in gunnery practice with the three
incher and almost hit our target. We were surprised and disappointed to
lose it. The theory was that we would be more likely to be subjected to
attacks from the air than from surface vessels.

The biggest surprise came when the yard installed large
timbers on our main deck, greased them and then using a very large crane,
lifted an LCT on top of them. This completed, we had the crew come aboard
for transport to our still undisclosed destination.

We then went to Baton Rouge and took on 180,000 gallons
of fuel which was stored in our bottom compartments. When we left the Gulf
of Mexico and headed north we finally knew that we were assigned to the
European theater.

Being the skipper of an LCT is not a great assignment.
Being the only officer aboard you do not have the companionship of a peer.
If you do your job and enforce discipline the men resent you but if you
are lax the men will not respect you and may ignore your orders. The crew
we took on board were undisciplined and lax in performing their duties.
The skipper seemed indifferent to the situation. His wife had joined him
in New Orleans and he went ashore every night to join her. Some of us warned
him that unless he got control of his crew, he would have a difficult time
after his LCT was launched. This advice was completely ignored. The crew
was assigned certain watches and duties on our LST which were performed
reasonably well. However while our crew was engaged in drills and maintenance,
the LCT crew would go aboard their craft and sack out. We reached New York
for a short stay for taking on supplies. The LCT's skipper's wife again
joined him and we saw very little of him. After a short stop at Quonset,
Rhode Island we sailed to Boston. This was to be our last port within the
States. The LCT's skipper went to the Naval Hospital and it was revealed
that he had a hernia. He was then discharged from his duties with the LCT
and admitted for surgery. His replacement arrived just a day or two before
our departure. He was probably about 21 years of age. He had been first
in the 90 day wonder program to become an ensign and then had about a three
months course in the operation of amphibious craft. He was a very nice,
sociable young man but not nearly tough enough to take on his spoiled crew.
We tried to help him while he was on board but there was only so much we
could do.

Crossing the North Atlantic in winter time with a slow
convoy is an experience which was covered in another episode. Eventually
we did reach Falmouth, England and pumped our fuel oil cargo into storage
tanks. Within a few days the Germans bombed the fuel oil storage tanks
and set them on fire and the cargo which we had brought all the way from
Baton Rouge went up in smoke. This was not a good omen!

We then went to Plymouth to launch the LCT 559. Our instructions
were to shift our liquid storage to the port side to develop a 13 degree
list. We crafted a makeshift list indicator and started pumping. I had
all the ballast tanks on the port side flooded and the starboard side empty
but still could not get the 13 degrees. We then shifted fuel and fresh
water and came up with about 11 degrees of list. The only thing remaining
was to pump fresh water overboard which we thought was too precious to
waste. After discussing the situation, the Captain approved launching with
the list we had. My input was that I was sure the launch would be OK. All
the blocks were removed and the trigger, consisting of a steel cable, was
cut with a fire axe. The LCT dropped in the water and after rocking back
and forth a few times came to rest about six feet away. We had a little
ceremony on board and said farewell.

Later we had several visits from the new skipper of the
LCT and we knew he was having a rough time of it. Finally on his last visit
his morale had climbed way up because the Navy had assigned a second officer
to the LCT as his executive officer. We never saw him again. We learned
that the LCT 559 had sunk on D-day while making it's first run to the beach.
This probably was at Omaha beach. All officers and the crew were lost.